


The Battle of Five Armies

by hennethgalad



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 12:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8800348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: an elf dies





	

 

                      The Battle of Five Armies

  
   His dry eyes burned with the tears his body was shedding as blood. The three front ranks of Elves he had been with were all around him, pinned to the ground with countless orc arrows. The ground looked like the carcass of a hedgehog, the blood had strange patches of dust floating on it, and insects were starting to arrive. The noise from the nearby fighting was keeping the birds away, but he could see them curling through the low clouds above. He hoped he would be dead before they came for his eyes.

  
   The stench was like some thick liquid oozing over the ground around him, not just blood and other body parts that should never see air, but some orcish filth on the arrows themselves, and there were arrows everywhere.

  
   He tried to take his mind from the thirst that was turning his mouth to dust and thought of his wife. She had promised to spend the entire time he was away waiting in bed for him, and then laughed and ran away, her long hair flying in the breeze, as he whooped and chased her... He smiled and then choked as he thought of her being told, her face going white, she would reach out her hand for him and he would not be there to take it. He thought with pain of the time he must await her in the Halls of Mandos, torn between the desire to see her again and the will for her to live even if he must wait through all of Time to be with her.

  
   He thought of their home high on the slopes where the trees were thinner and the view went on as far as the sea, she insisted. He knew it was only the air growing thick with distance that drew that line of blue on the horizon, and he knew she knew it too, but she had seen the sea in her youth in the West, and had almost persuaded him to travel with her to hear the waves thunder on the shore.

  
   A roar came from the front, but his vision was darkening round the edges, as if through water he could see the bright hair of Thranduil, wielding the sword of Gondolin they had taken from Thorin. He wondered where Thorin was, but the time had passed in which he was able to turn his head. His best friends were around him, already dead, for himself some unlucky chance had spared even the mighty veins whose loss would swiftly slay. Instead his life dripped into the foul pool they lay in, the orc-poisoned blood was seeping up his hair, the thought of it reaching his cheek made his flesh prickle with loathing, he exerted the last of his strength to turn his head away and saw no more.

 

 

 


End file.
